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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
Words:
604
Chapters:
1/1
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156
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2,005

Snapshots

Summary:

*Fandom:* Dexter
*Characters:* Dexter
*Prompt:* First time
*Rating:* PG-13
*Warnings:* 1st person, introspective fic, spoilers from 'Love American style' and several episodes before'. Set in season 1.
*Disclaimer:* I don't own anything Dexter-wise.
*Summary:* *You always remember your first time. I think everyone does. It doesn't matter if it was good or bad, even mediocre, it's always memorable.

Work Text:



Snapshots
by Ann

 

You always remember your first time. I think everyone does. It doesn't matter if it was good or bad, even mediocre, it's always memorable.

Sometimes little things bring my first time back into my thoughts; the sound of someone talking, the smell of it in the air. And the emotion. So hard to look at her that first time and see what I don't understand staring back at me. But I don't turn away nowadays. Don't shut my eyes or cover my face.

They all share that same raw emotion, it flares in their eyes each and every time that uncertainty becomes inevitability. When pleading, in both voice and motion, die away to a low whimper and there's a quiet acceptance.

I don't feel anything. Not that kinship they seem to feel as they beg and plead initially, trying to appeal to me, to compare us and convince me to release them. Like we're similar. Like we share something. But we don't. I don't feel anything. I'm just going through the motions, skillful as I run my fingers over them, eliciting a shudder each time. It's masterful, an art perfected by practice and easily replicated. Each time I brush lightly against their face catching the very essence of them, it takes me back to my first time.

Only for a moment do I ever indulge in it, allow the memory to come to mind because it's better that it's allowed, that I control it, than if it tries to take me over. I was messy that first time, making her gasp and groan as she pushed back against me, fought me. Her thoughts so different from my own. Her motivation a contrast to mine, yet the end result was the same.

There's a first time for everything -- despite how rigidly I desire to perform, to stick to Harry's rules. This is the first time that I've felt that sudden surge of something, the idea taking me over and prompting me to rush, to deviate from the plan. Other people do spontaneous; I don't. It mars my control and precision, makes things messy like that first time.

*Valerie.*

I can't help but compare them both as I pull her into my arms and feel her weight there. It's only a momentary slip and it deviates from the plan as much as taking to her does.

*Was it worth it?*

Much as I enjoy the moment of intimacy with her and the rush of understanding at the answers to my questions, questions she and her husband can appreciate-relationships take work, after all- I later wonder. I begrudge my spontaneity, the disregard of Harry's rules to take her too. It's an aberration it in a way; it hastens my steps so I don't fully appreciate my time spent with her, unlike that with her husband. I don't watch and notice the moment she looks at me and all the promises drop away. The moment she sees me and *knows*.

When I see her body-my mistake, my momentary weakness- everything changes. Coldness sweeps over me in an unfamiliar manner that has my heart pounding. Maybe, maybe it's worth it just to feel this way, to feel something and be normal. As I try and think one step ahead while sweeping my camera over her body with only indifference -- not the trouble I feel -- on my face, I wonder... how could any of them not be worth it?

There's a first time for everything.

 


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